Everyday adventures of a Baptist minister

January 2018 - Page 5

This morning, I popped out to post some letters and, coming back indoors, stepped into the lift, selected my floor and waited. With a graunch and a lurch, it moved a bit, then stopped. The door wouldn't open. It wouldn't go up or down. Oh dear.

Two good things (or maybe three)

Firstly, I'm not claustrophobic, so althoguh it wasn't exactly nice to be stuck, I wasn't dsitressed.

Secondly, I had my phone, which had a signal, and the maintenance company phone number if posted inside the lift. After two failed attempts, I finally managed to get through to them.

Meanwhile, the cleaners, who happen to be in a Tuesday, had notified one of my neighbours that someone was struck in the lift. After much button pressing, doors opening between floors, lift moving up or down or just shaking, it finally returned to ground floor, and after another five minutes of so, I was able to open the door and escape.

Quite a slautory lesson, methinks...

What if I had been claustrophobic, or with someone who was? (I was alone in the lift)

What if I hadn't had a phone, or hadn't got a signal, or there was no number to call? (After the first two calls failed, I did attempt to phone someone else, before finally getting through)

What if the cleaners hadn't been in to let my neighbour know? (The lift alarm doesn't seem to do anything other than squawk)

Of course, 'what if' doesn't achieve anything of itself. I just have to be grateful that, given the lift broke down with me inside, all the other factors worked in my favour.

Maybe, too, it's a reminder that I shouldn't be so lazy, and just use the stairs in future!!

There's a saying that runs, 'lex orandi, lex credendi', sometimes to which is added, 'lex vivendi'. I don't know Latin, but it means something along the lines of 'what I pray informs what I believe, which informs how I live'. To put it another way: liturgy informs theology which shapes practice.

Or, as one of my college tutors back in the day put it:

The hymns/songs we sing shape what we believe, which affects our values and actions.

Since I came across the idea, I have been pretty much convinced it's valid... however we read the Bible, and whatever we hear in sermons, it's the songs and hymns that stick in our memories, and so impact our thinking, believing and living.

Often I will choose hymns/songs that are aspirational - that express the hope that inspires us, even when the reality has a long way to go.

Two of our 'favourites' are 'All are welcome', and, 'For everyone born a place at the Table'.

What I sing - what we sing - shapes what I/we believe and how I/we live out our faith.

In recent months, we have been joined by numerous new folk, from all sorts of backgrounds and experiences, and it's wonderful.

New children in Sunday School. More nationalities than ever. An overall decrease in our average age, at the same time as a noticeable increase in our average attendance.

And still we will sing these songs. Because as they become more fully our experience, we realise how far we still have to go.

And still we will sometimes get it wrong.

But, by God's amazing grace, we are learning and growing, and becoming more of what we are called to be.

Everyone knows I have workaholic tendencies. Everyone knows I am not the best at taking holidays, and rarely achieve my nine free Sundays (I think I got to eight last year!). So, at the end of last year, I decided to take myself in hand, and be much more intentional about looking after myself.

With that in mind, I have just booked my first three 'free' Sundays for this year, and a short break to Rome to coincide with one of them. I've never been to Italy, and everyone seems to love Rome...

I am also in conversations with the various friends I go away with to fix dates for our jaunts, and am planning to have another retreat in Wales this autumn.

Sometimes I learn very slowly... but at least I am making progress in looking after myself, and that has to be a 'good thing'.